


We Are Monsters

by Jupiterra



Series: Hetalia Monsters Universe [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Complete, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Monsters, Secrets, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 08:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: Ivan is a monster, in a literal sense, and thoughtless Alfred discovers this.





	1. Chapter 1

Slamming the door shut, Russia let out a long sigh. At last, work was finished. The living nation was no more, now just Ivan Braginsky at home after a long day. So much less than the humans he served yet so much more.

The wood and warm colours of the old house embraced him. In turn, Ivan let down his guard. The familiar patter of tiny footsteps could be heard in the distance. Ivan smiled as he set down his suitcase. “Blackie! Sunshine! Papa is home!” he called out as he shook fluffy snow off himself. Long coat undone, It was hung with care.

“Meow!” Both fluffy cats greeted from the top of the stairs, much like cautious yet excited children. Ivan smiled as he undid his tight work shirt, a baggy sleeveless beneath. The skin on his lower torso flushed with faint colour, reacting automatically. Already he could feel muscles tight like coiled rope, beginning to unravel. 

Both cats started to slink to their master, gliding down the steps. Ivan's shoes fell off, nothing curled inside to hold them any more. Pants were shed just as quickly, revealing the many limbs truly supporting Ivan's bulk. His human torso blended seamlessly into uncoiling tentacles. Four long thick ones were surrounded by eight thinner ones. No longer trapped in restrictive pants, they unbound from two now wobbly pillars.

Ivan lowered himself to the floor as his loving pets drew near. The thinner more dexterous tendrils petted the cats thoroughly, something the beasts always enjoyed. “Papa had such a stressful day at work little kittens. He had to attend two meetings in a row.” he lamented to his fluffy companions. Both cats purred in response.

In lopsided fashion, Ivan walked himself over to the couch on the stockier four tentacles. He climbed onto the plush furniture, letting dead weight finally settle. While his hands dragged over a knitting basket, two slim tentacles searched by touch for the TV remote likely jammed in the couch. His four main tentacles lay limp and colourless on the cushions in a tangled ball. The remaining six thinner ones listlessly curled around random objects or cuddly cats in range. Today truly had been exhausting.

Ivan had been forced to march around in 'human mode', trapped in uncomfortable slacks. He could act and look just like all the other people for hours, and walk around for two hours. Four hours of the act was impossibly draining though. His boss knew Ivan was... strange. He had no idea though. Truthfully, other than Lithuania and Ukraine, no one knew about his centuries long condition. The few humans that did know at one point were long dead.

The tired Russian turned on the TV via remote with a tentacle while knitting with idle hands. As his favourite drama show started up, Ivan couldn't help but think he'd forgotten something. It must not be very important if he forgot it.

Feeling hot, he roughly peeled off his scarf. He hated the damn thing. It was needed to cover his neck though. Aside from multiple decapitation scars, he also had a set of gills there. The other nations would lose their minds if they saw the things flaring passively whenever he took a large breath.

Ugh. It was a re-run on TV today. Ivan was never going to find out if Orina's evil twin sister had died at this rate. Bored, he continued knitting with his hands while channel surfing via tentacles. After finding nothing good, he gave up and dropped the remote blindly. His spoiled kitties, slightly chubby due to Ivan's indulgences, had bolted off to play like kitties do.

Pausing knitting, he inspected his nails. Disgusting. He picked up one of the limp tentacles, flipping it over. Revealing rows of suckers, they too were unsightly. Today would be a bath day it seemed. A nice warm bath, even it if took hours, would be just the thing. He flushed pale pink with excitement, as did his non-human half. Baths were the absolute best, or anything with water. Even to splash around was joy.

Newly inspired, the still running TV was abandoned as Ivan scuttled up the stairs. His water resistant phone was placed on a table beside the massive bath tub. It was the best part of the house.

After he was abandoned in 1989, Ivan took the time to remodel both bathrooms to suit his needs. All but three of the 18 bedroom were cleaned one last time in the 1990's, then covered in sheets. Ivan had not entered them since, having long removed all the metal name plates on the doors. The secondary kitchen was dismantled after it flooded in 2001. Three of the four offices were also covered up and locked tight. It was all a waste after so much effort.

Letting out a remorseful sigh, Ivan forced himself to think of happier things. The only downside to a large tub was that it took ages to fill. Impatient, the pale Russian slipped in the still filling vessel. Even with only a few centimetres of water, things were already better. He always felt so dry after a long day of work. His drinking probably didn't help either, but that wasn't stopping anytime soon.

Splashing in the shallow water, Ivan couldn't help but smile. All of him enjoyed this simple pleasure immensely, and these days, he no longer denied it. He wasn't always this way, all tentacles and partially water dependant. He just... got used to it, he supposed. Putting classical music on a low volume, Ivan hummed along as he let tentacles idly wrap around the running water faucet.

Feeling the water sluice over him, Ivan shivered and hummed. Finally happy, he leaned over the edge of the tub and looked around. Finding his favourite water toy, he grabbed it eagerly. It was just a fun stress ball that you squeezed. Oh the joy of just wrapping a tentacle around it and squeezing! Sure Ivan had burst a few over the year, but they were cheap. Only a few roubles.

Once the water was satisfactory levels, there was enough to really move under the water. Ivan dunked his head under the water, until his shaggy locks of hair shone dirty platinum. As much as he enjoyed staying under, it was too stagnant to breathe forever. Taking a big breath, he ducked under again. It was so relaxing and so loud yet quiet. After a good six minutes, he came up for air.

He was going to turn the music up slightly louder, when a loud sound echoed from downstairs. Ivan's heart raced from fear. He was exposed in true form and absolutely sopping wet. It was going to be a massive pain to get out of the bathroom. He still had to reach his guns in the bedroom across the hall.

“IVAN BRAGINSKY, YOU RAT FACED LITTLE SHIT! I KNOW YOU'RE HOME!” a very angry voice yelled out. Unfortunately, it was a very familiar voice. Ivan paled with anxiety, his now white tentacles curling tightly in response. Oh why, why, why! Why him of all people!? There was stomping up the stairs now. Ivan's only hope was to stay quiet now.

An angry American was storming up the stairs after all.


	2. Chapter 2

The bathroom door swung open wide, a red faced honey blonde in the door. Ivan watched pensively, only his wide eyes above the water. “My stupid government ordered me to be nice to you, and you made me wait an hour! You fucking bastard!” America roared, far beyond irritated.

Ivan quaked in the water, frantically inventing weapons from objects around him. At this point, his best bet was drowning his opponent in the tub itself. America stepped closer, growling “Say something you prick! Because I am the goddamn united states of America, and no one... no one... what the fuck.”

His rage faded quickly, sky blue eyes wide in... shock? Horror? The scared Russian couldn't place it. Ivan rose slightly out of the water, searching for hints as to America's next move. When America did move, he shuffled towards the phone playing music. He turned off the sound, then looked over the clear water of the tub.

Ivan didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. There really wasn't words for something like this. “You're a fish. Man. Squid. You're a squid man.” Alfred muttered in disbelief, slapping a hand over his own mouth to stop the rambling.

Sensing no upcoming violence, Ivan's body uncurled and resumed a cautious pink mottled with brown. A curious tentacle poked over the edge of the tub, not entirely of Ivan's direct wishes. There was enough of the things that he rarely controlled all of them unless he really concentrated.

“No. Octopuses have eight arms. Squids have ten.” Ivan replied coolly, violet eyes taking in every movement. Technically, the shocked nation was in drowning range now. The scheming Russian could afford to be cocky. Alfred was still gawking, but managed to stop gaping like a dumb fish.

“Can... Can I touch it?” Alfred asked suddenly, still very much a child at heart. “For now.” Ivan sighed, feigning annoyance. It actually felt wonderful to touch textures and other people. It was why he had two cats of extreme fluffiness. He had considered getting more cats, but cleaning up all the hair was already a momentous task.

Moving closer, Alfred ran a finger on the smooth side of the tentacle. It felt marvellous. Ivan was certain it was bushing some indecent shade of pink from the attention. He willingly curled up the underside, exposing small white suckers. As Ivan closed his eyes, he felt a rough dry thumb pad feel between some of the suckers. Exquisite, like a tiny massage.

Possessing the attention span of a toddler, Alfred peeled off the clingy appendage and tossed it in the tub. Without asking a second time, he reached in a grabbed one of the four main tentacles. Giving the resting limb a squeeze, Ivan suppressed the need to purr and sigh.

“It's totally squishy like rubber dude! This is crazy!” Alfred squealed, as if Ivan's limb was a desk top novelty toy. If this improvised massage was the reaction he was going to get, America would have been told months ago!

Blushing deeply, Ivan lolled in the attention. Only when the random touches brushed the base of a larger limb, did he freeze. Instantly, Ivan braced himself with his upper arms defensively. All of his tentacles bound Alfred's arms in violent reaction, part of a possible drowning attempt. “Holy balls, are you trying to break my wrists?” Alfred complained sharply, wincing.

“Don't... touch there, or I'll kill you.” Ivan hissed, releasing clenched bounds of muscle slowly. “Got it bro. No no for the murder zones.” Alfred agreed. Ivan rolled his eyes, hesitantly releasing his captive. “Pass me that towel, then please leave.” Ivan requested politely. “Why the hell should I listen to you?” America barked, probably out of reflex. “Because I will be leaving the tub, and I am... naked.” Ivan explained, speaking softly towards the end.

Alfred wore a mask of extreme embarrassment, “Oh, um, I... Okay. I was thinking this was a costume, but it's not, and... shit. I, uh... will get a towel.” He stammered, leaving the room mechanically after tossing a fluffy yellow towel in Ivan's general direction. The dripping wet Russian was surprised, expecting this from a shy teen or child. Apparently there was still puritan influence in the nation after all.

Half way through drying off, there was muffled steps at the door. “Russia?” America asked, oddly formal. “What?” Ivan replied curtly. “I didn't do anything inappropriate did I? I'm not trying to be France or anything. I was just thinking it was fake, but it's not. And one is all squishy, and wow, are those gills? Is that why you always wear that dorky scarf? And you had legs at the meeting, but now you don't. So are you a bad ass shape shifter, or a sea wizard? Omigosh, do you know magic? Because Arthur does but he really really sucks at it.”

Holy hell could he talk. Before another verbal assault of nonsense could be produced, Ivan interrupted his guest. “Relax. You are not a rapist today.” Ivan said through the door. The was an audible sigh of relief on the other side that made Ivan smirk. The American idiot had just the equivalent of a sea monster, yet he was worried about public image!

It was truly difficult to predict Alfred, it seemed.


	3. Chapter 3

After slipping on a long dress style shirt with some side slits, Ivan travelled downstairs in his usual trot of limbs. Picking up his discarded work clothes, Ivan paused in the living room. “I did not have any meeting with you scheduled for today.” the Russian mentioned, pulling his phone out to check for a third time. He was normally quite punctual when it could be helped.

“Dude, we were drunk and texting each other for some stupid reason. Remember? I called you a shit eating snake or something? I don't remember, Mattie's independence day then my own... I was super wrecked. But you texted me back saying shit, then my president misunderstood the whole thing. He thought we were getting along, and made me come to this frozen hole...” Alfred explained, not clearing up anything at all.

Snatching Alfred's phone with a whip like movement of tentacles, Ivan started browsing their shared text chat history. The Russian's government appointed phone was always wiped clean at the end of the day. Along with his driving dash cam and home security tapes, Ivan was quick to erase such things. His boss, or lesser minions of him, always read and saw everything otherwise.

Finding the drunk exchange of racial slurs and emojis, Ivan frowned. So they had come to an agreement, regardless of how intoxicated they were at the time. He grumbled, tossing the phone back. “How did you have legs last month?” Alfred asked, unable to help himself. Ivan just rolled his eyes, retorting “I haven't had traditional legs for many centuries.”

When America wouldn't drop the subject, Ivan twined his many lower limbs into two wobbly pillars that distantly resembled legs. The pants really helped keep the shape. Ceasing intense concentration, the forms lost stability quickly. Ivan's fatigue from a long work day was still present after all. “That looks like it hurts.” Alfred noted, somehow eating something in the few seconds Ivan looked away. Naturally, he was getting crumbs everywhere.

It did, to some extent. Then again, life was full of pain. You just became acclimated to all of it. Ivan said nothing, neatly folding all the discarded laundry. “You said you had legs before?” America continued, never sated in his curiosity. Ivan was similar, but always found out things through observational tests instead of words.

“Yes, a long time ago.” Ivan supplied simply, then decided to continue. It was so rare to be able to speak about it, and even his big sister didn't know the whole story. Lithuania had been fed so many drugs that Ivan wondered if he even remembered that accidental conversation. Heck, Ivan could just drug Alfred to make him forget after anyway.

“It was after 1478... Maybe. It has been a long time... Me and Katyusha were fighting over Crimea again, and she was being stubborn. It clearly belonged to me. So I started raiding villages personally to spite her, breaking religious idols, taking captives... all very routine for the era. There was this one town that was well armed, with a great temple built next to the sea. Greek, roman... I'm not sure what make it was. But the tiling was lovely.” the Russian continued, nostalgic.

He caught Alfred's expression of disgust, but ignored it. The upstart punk was no better with his bio-logical weapons and capitalism fuelled slavery.

“So, burn down the town, kill anyone I see, the usual. I just knew destroying the temple would make sister so angry. Before I could get to work, a powerful witch warned me not to touch a single brick. If I did, I would be cursed forever as a demon from the sea. Naturally, I gutted her on the spot. Honestly, I heard worse death threats from children.” Ivan continued casually, then paused thoughtfully.

“Crimea... that whole mess... it came and went. It was six months later, and I was returning to Moscow with my spoils. The grand prince was so happy with my performance. That was when everything started changing I suppose. First it was the ears, then the teeth... My eyes were blue purple, then they just went fully purple over a year. I became paler. For about a week I was so certain I was turning into a vampire. The priests assured me otherwise, even had a laugh about it.”

“Teeth?” Alfred asked, completely absorbed by the far fetched tale. Ivan smiled widely, an alien notion he hadn't completed in a long time. The reaction was predictable and instant. “Holy shit! You got some serious fangs man!” the younger nation squealed in delight, treating all of this like a visit to the zoo. “Omigosh I wanna touch 'em!” Alfred declared, blue eyes bright.

“Touch my teeth and I'll bite your finger off.” Ivan threatened darkly.

The idiot did it, he really did it. Ivan bit down hard the second Alfred even tried. He knew he had his target when the taste of copper splashed on his tongue. America's blood was sweeter and warmer than expected. The finger was withdrawn quickly with a loud curse.

The cursing turned to laughter as America dripped blood all over the place. “God, it's so deep too! I just got bit by a real life sea monster! Japan is going to shit his pants when I tell him I saw a man squid dude!” He exclaimed loudly, treating the wound like an autograph.

“You... are so stupid. You need to disinfect that.” Ivan chided, shaking his head. “Are you poisonous too? That would be so damn cool!” Alfred replied, being a total child. Since it was rude to let guests bleed all day, Ivan begrudgingly fetched a first aid.

That finger was mangled for sure. Ivan grimaced as he pulled shredded skin together and started to sew. “Why are you being like this?” the pale Russian asked lowly as he worked. “I just met a magical poisonous squid man. I'm fucking ecstatic! It's just like when I met Tony!” Alfred replied happily.

Ivan raised a brow, but said nothing. Everyone knew Alfred's claims of aliens loud and clear. The Russian had even taken this claim seriously in the 1980's, searching the skies on weekends for... something. He wasn't even sure what anymore. Despite all the UFO sightings, nothing helpful had ever showed up.

Finishing up stitching the finger, Ivan wrapped it up. “You will not be telling anyone of my true appearance.” he ordered confidently. “Why the hell not?” Alfred challenged defiantly. “Your boss will not be happy when I talk about our visit. How you broke into my house. How you violated my space, while I was naked in the bath tub. Understanding now little one?” Ivan threatened lightly, violet eyes bright.

Summery blue eyes narrowed in anger, then widened in comprehension. “I have to say something to him. He's not a complete idiot.” the younger nation objected. “You will tell him you had a lovely evening in Moscow, and your mission was successful. Of course, that's what happened, didn't it?” the Russian suggested lightly.

“Manipulative Fucker. Fine. We are having a lovely evening. Can your tentacles stop playing with my pants now?” Alfred agreed after a long sulking silence. Ivan looked down, seeing his more curious limbs tugging at the fine stitching of a leg end. Feeling the ridges of them, the soft fabric beneath. Always enamoured by texture, Ivan manually collected the worst behaved of the bunch.

“My apologies. They rarely behave.” the Russian admitted, feeling the three limbs squirm in his arms. America shrugged, vanishing into the kitchen. He returned with a box of almond cookies. “So. What are we doing now?” the tanned nation asked genially. Ivan blinked in surprise, not sure what what to say.


	4. Chapter 4

Contentment was all there was. Lost to texture and radiating heat, Ivan relinquished all control. Humming happily, he hugged a pillow while the rest of him tangled into his guest on the couch. Touching puppy soft hair, metallic edges of glasses, ridges of buttons... Once the ultra fluffy cats joined in on the fun, it only got better.

“Do you ever wonder if there's other magical creatures?” Alfred asked mid monologue. All Ivan had to do was ask about the other male's week once. Twenty minutes and thirteen different topics later, the honey blond was still going. He too had given up on stopping the numerous limbs. It wasn't like they were unfastening or tearing anything. Yet.

“I did once. I once looked for many legends and beasts. I spent days on horseback, like... this. Searching for other monsters. Months even. It was all a waste of time.” Ivan replied, melting as Alfred tried to tie wandering limbs into bows. They unravelled seconds later ever time.

“How did you pull off horseback riding? You have like no shock absorption in these things.” the American wondered, now feeling the spaces between suckers. More, the touch starved Russian needed more.

“Getting on the horse, and staying there. That was the challenge.” Ivan continued. “You know, for seeing you in the buff, there wasn't much to look at. Like the only interesting thing was in the murder zone, like... right here.” Alfred noted, lifting two larger tentacles out of the way. A second later, Ivan's whole world felt electrified from the brush of a finger. It was deep in the ultra sensitive 'murder zone', the inner base of his tentacles.

A shiver of need rippled through Ivan. “Don't touch that again.” he gasped, muffling an obscene sound with the held pillow. “Oh what? I'm sorry, I was busy do this!” Alfred started rubbing the same spot with a now slick finger as he teased maliciously. It wasn't fair, Ivan thought distantly as he positively melted.

Frustrated, Ivan pulled away from the wonderful touches. “I'm... not going to be treated like this. You can't get me all worked up, knowing I won't be getting... anything.” the Russian huffed, pent up and irritated. His lower half disagreed immensely, but it would be ignored. Like usual.

“What the hell are you talking about ruskie?” Alfred asked, being stupid. “I'm a damn sea monster, fool. I don't get... special attention.” Ivan growled, faltering at the end. There was deadly silence, then a chuckle. “How many years has it been since you've been laid, dude?” Alfred asked.

Ivan didn't answer for a long time, still blushing scarlet. He stared at the flickering light of the TV, then decided what to do. “Since... 1475.” he admitted softly, looking away. There was a long breath, then a whistle. “That... is a really long time. I'm surprised you don't drink more often.” Alfred noted seriously.

“My bosses get mad when I drink at work.” Ivan replied dryly. He didn't dare look at the American, not wanting to see pity. Maybe it was disgust. It didn't matter. Ivan felt the touch, a soft squeeze on a slim tendril. It was a soft touch, a physical apology. No, that was only wishful thinking.

“Russia?” Alfred asked softly. “Do not pity me. I'm perfectly capable of killing you. I'm a monster, killing people is what I do.” Ivan hissed, glaring dangerously at his uninvited guest. A flannel shirt, soft and warm. A solid living body grabbing him in a non-harmful gesture. America, his nemesis, the bane of his paperwork, was hugging him.

Ivan started to cry, centuries of emotional armour crumbling. “Fuck, don't cry on me. You're not a monster. You're... really good at chess, and knitting, and cooking. You're nice when you're not being an asshole. Your fat cats love you, and your country kicked Germany and Prussia's ass... Remember? You beat the shit out of them, remember? Because you're a bad ass.” Alfred soothed poorly, trying to squeeze the depression out of Ivan's unnatural chimera form.

The tears wouldn't be stopping anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

“A moving party?” the entire room seemed to echo.

“Yes. I'm throwing a moving party. I've conquered, stolen, spit on, and nearly killed almost... Hmm... All you present. You all hate me. So come, party, reclaim your shattered cultures from my spoils. Take a shit on my work desk. It's going to be a house party for the ages. Drinks on me.” Ivan repeated, slightly sloppy as he repeated the message in two other languages.

“You are drunk.” Germany stated flatly, unimpressed.

“Yes. I am. Why does it matter? I never take notes anyway.” Ivan retorted coldly. He caught England throwing him a judgmental look. He matched the Brit's glare, then growled “Fuck you England.” He sat down, then took in the reactions of the world meeting before him.

Disgust at his state, curiosity, hate, leers of greedy opportunistic, fear. So much fear. There was only one look of concern among all of the nations. It was hidden behind leather gloves and wire frame glasses. Summer blue eyes seemed cloudy with concern, a mar on a perfect day. The only one to care in a room of three dozen, and it was the nation that had crushed him. Ivan truly was a cursed creature.

“I think you should leave.” Sweden said quietly, his accent horrendous like usual.

“You're a damn mess. Go home.” Southern Italy cursed.

“This is the time and place. First come first serve.” Ivan informed gleefully, writing the address down on the table itself with a pen. It was so hard to walk human today with all the vodka in his system. “I'll help you to the door.” America offered suddenly, quick on his feet. The room spun a little today it seemed.

“I will accept your offer pig dog. I seem to have lost my wits today.” Ivan agreed easily, slipping on a small smile. Giggling as he was dragged out of the room, Ivan was surprised. Why did the American care at all? Two halls over, the wasted nation was lowered to the ground.

“What the fuck?” Alfred whispered. “You are to nice to me. Perhaps I should share my drink with you next time.” Ivan giggled, a blushing tentacle wriggling free of it's tightly belted pant prison. It wrapped around Alfred's ankle tightly. It was peeled off with difficulty, Shoved back under the suffocation tight belt. “What the fuck is the matter with you today?” the honey blond hissed.

“Touch me. Touch me like before.” Ivan asked seductively, fluttering half lidded violet eyes. He had tried yet again to deal with his suppressed lust before the meeting, and failed miserably. Trying to masturbate was like trying to tickle himself, it was physically impossible. Ivan regretted not packing any toys, even if it would raise eyebrows at the airport inspections.

Alfred blushed as two more tentacle escaped and directly groped his crotch. “S-s-stop it, we're in a hall.” he whispered loudly in alarm. “Fuck me.” Ivan sighed, his 'legs' hardly convincing anyone right now. Fly pulled down on America's pants, the other dexterous tendril eagerly explored the new spaces within.

Making a soft sound of protest, Alfred looked flustered as he pulled both exploratory limbs out. He didn't seem pleased his pants were being invaded. Too bad! Just as Ivan was about to undo his belt and really ravage his new sexual outlet, voices could be heard. 

Ivan withdrew his wondering limbs into his long coat, but kept up his affections. A distinctively french and British pair of accents were bickering as they came closer.

“... I'm allowed to worry about my own bloody colony. He's been gone ten minutes!” the despicable England insisted. “It was four minutes... It is adorable how much you love your little Amerique.” France teased. “Shut up and help me find him before that Russian bastard turns him communist.” the parent seethed as he rounded the corner.

Now hugging a warm clothed leg, Ivan bunched his two crooked impressions of legs into more believable positions. He was just so unbearably horny today, pressing against Alfred's true leg muscles. Feeling them engage and twitch. Ignoring conversation, he impulsively bit America's leg and started suckling the wound. It tasted good, like copper and sunshine.

He was brought back to reality by a painful slap to the head.

Vision still reeling from the impact, Ivan slurred “You taste like summer, fedya.” “The limey git is a right mess.” England noted in scornful fashion. Slapped again when he tried to lick at the wound, Ivan was scooped up bridal style. “I'm going to dump him off at the hotel before he tries to eat people.” Alfred declared, looking uncomfortable. It was probably because a tentacle had wormed under his shirt and into his pants. Ivan smirked and willed the limb to wrap around Alfred's cock.

“Now. Leaving now.” Alfred blurted out, quickly retreating in alarm. England shrugged while France smiled deviously, as if understanding.


	6. Chapter 6

Ivan was always certain to get a hotel as close as possible to meeting sites. Walking around in human mode was draining after all. Coincidentally, it was extremely convenient for Ivan getting laid. They were in his cheap hotel room in under ten minutes.

“Ugh. This room is a roach box.” Alfred complained, temporarily forgetting his family jewels were taken hostage. “It was the closest thing I could find.” Ivan retorted, wriggling quickly out of his clothing. Several freed limbs began to slither over Alfred, seeking sensitive spots. Impatient, Ivan dragged his chosen companion to the too small bed. Several German tourist brochures and a Berlin phone book were pushed off the bed violently.

“I have to get back to the meeting.” the younger nation protested weakly, not resisting as he was felt up with all eight tentacles. Feverishly seeking satisfaction, Ivan remarked “Too bad. I want fun.” He then descended on Alfred's half hard cock. Careful not to graze it with sharp teeth, Ivan began to lather the growing member with soft licks and kisses.

“Not... not fair... you cheating bastard.” the American panted, eyes rolling back from pleasure. After several minutes, he grunted and rolled over. Ivan pinned him on his back again with two limbs. “You want to get fucked so damn bad?” Alfred growled, eyes dark with lust. “Yes... Yes please.” Ivan breathed, his own body hot and blushing with need. “Then we're doing my way. I'm going on top.” America ordered.

Normally Ivan was dominant as all hell, but this was deliciously dirty sex. The fabled thing he'd been denied forever! The excited Russian willingly submitted... for now. In the end, he always found a way to win. Propping up his hips in missionary, Ivan eagerly awaited being pounded into the mattress. It didn't happened. Opening an eye in annoyance, he saw America, still hard and now properly naked. He was parked between separated tentacles, looking confused. 

The tanned blond looked at him sheepishly, admitting “I um... don't know what going on down here.” “Just... touch stuff and see what happens.” Ivan urged, not entirely sure how everything worked himself. He rarely ever had a good look at it. What little he had glimpsed was nonsensical.

“So... like this?” Alfred asked innocently, running a finger over vulnerable sensitive skin. Ivan shivered and hummed with joy. “Oh you know what? This all reminds me of... something else. Like this is a clit but not?” The male parked over him rambled, brushing a spot, the spot of all spots, with a slick thumb.

Tentacles quaked and writhed in reaction. Ivan's heart starting to race. “S-s-shut up and fuck me.” he gasped, not expected such a strong reaction. “Nope. I'm going to do this instead.” Alfred replied with an evil gleam in his eye. He then ducked down, taking off his glasses. What happened next was paradise.

A tongue lapped softly at... something sensitive, and that spot. The spot of all spots. The warm wet muscle rubbed the sacred places in all the right ways. Soon two fingers slipped inside Ivan, providing gentle friction with each lick. The pace was regular, yet caring.

Helpless to gentle waves of ecstasy, Ivan let himself be washed away. Tension would build, until it was maddening. In a foggy part of his brain, he knew this was an orgasm in the making. It was so different from before the curse. It wasn't one big world ending fall into oblivion. It was gentle peaks, leaving him just functional enough to survive another building release.

Multiple orgasms. Ivan was experiencing multiple orgasms, and it was wonderful. He didn't know how long he was suspended in this heavenly state. All he knew is it sharply ended, Alfred looking completely enthralled. His cock was still hard, almost angrily so, as it entered Ivan roughly. Slick from Ivan's own passage, it railed into him over and over.

Exquisite perfect friction felt like electricity between them, a shared connection. Inner muscles stroked and pulled the hot member in deeper, all the while Alfred gripped Ivan's torso until it bruised. The Russian could feel everything tensing inside him preparing for... something. He wasn't sure how this was all working so well.

Alfred's face was primal art as he fucked Ivan savagely. “I'm gonna cum. I can't...” He cried out, thrusting with brutal force deeper inside. “Cum inside me.” Ivan keened, equally as loud and lewd as his partner. With a strangled sound, Alfred pressed deep. Ivan could feel it, wonderful warmth inside. Spreading. Filling.

Collapsing on Ivan's torso, Alfred's golden locks were tousled and shiny from his efforts. “That was so hot.” he panted, starting to look sleepy. The sated Russian, flush from their coupling, hummed in agreement. “I'm not joking dude. That was the best I've had in... a long time.” he repeated, groping blindly for his glasses. Ivan handed the spectacles over, softly answering “Me too.”

There was a long comfortable silence as they lay in each other's afterglow. “So... I'm stuck. Is this normal?” Alfred asked in amused fashion. Ivan could feel it, the spent member locked in a suddenly too tight channel, all of his own will. “Hmm. I guess you have to stay and find out.” the Russian purred, ever more tentacles ensnaring his new lover in place. He did win in the end.


	7. Chapter 7

It was six months later, and Ivan was in high spirits. He had finally found a condo he liked, near the historical centre of Moscow. After getting trashed, he apparently decided to announce a house party. After that, there was slurred yet crystallized memories of getting his brains fucked out. He was missing a lot of gaps between events, but that mattered little.

Of course, the house party was a disaster. The mansion was on fire before the firefighters could show up on time. Of course the place had been stripped clean hours earlier. The historical societies threw a tantrum of epic proportions of course. The damage was done in the end. With a stolen car crashed through the front window, a hole in the roof, and extensive burn damage, it was beyond restoration.

Ivan, sober for the entire party, merely acted drunk to disarm people. In all honesty, it was the only party the mansion had ever hosted successfully. It was darkly ironic, and secretly painful. The only time people were happy in his presence was when they were destroying everything he made.

The only one that didn't come to the party was America. He claimed he was busy, though he never clarified why. That was... fine. Everything was fine. Ivan didn't need the idiot's approval anyway. The Russian was the villain, the sea monster, the terror of Europe. His literal job half the year was to accept the blame for things other people had brought upon themselves.

The government put him up for a few months in a classy rental apartment a block from work. It was pretty damn convenient actually. The place was also bugged like crazy. Every breath was likely recorded somewhere. The only place that was mostly private was the bathroom. Ivan guessed they didn't want to hear him shit either.

So he spent the past six months in the generous sized bathroom, more or less. It was impossible for the ash blond to drown, so he often just slept in the tub after work. It was incredibly relaxing and blocked out all the city sounds. His calls, texts, and anything else imaginable was managed from the tub side.

But now things were different. Ivan was mostly over the loss of his old house, extremely sentimental about the now condemned property. Sure he had built the house out of love for the soviet union... customized each room carefully... oversaw the construction of it all with gloved fist... but he could move on. Maybe.

Now with Blackie, Sunshine, and his new cat, Pasha, Ivan would cope. He had to. Now his beautiful new home needed guests. Of course, there was only one person the lonely Russian had in mind. Ivan filed his dangerously sharp nails to blunt points nervously. The condo was perfectly clean, and all the dishes put away. It was all just procrastination, putting off the call.

It was just phone call.

He didn't need to be nervous. The phone was even displaying his long contacts list. It was in the K section, his capitalist in question displayed. Just press the damn button Braginsky! It was just a touch of the screen! Perhaps it was the finality of the motion that made it so hard.

Back in the day, dialing a rotary phone gave you tons of time to back out of deals. Staring intently at his smart phone, Ivan was locked in thought. For what was the third time, he hovered over the contact list. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the device.

One ring. This was such a bad idea.

Another ring. Maybe if he cancelled the call now...

Too late. A very groggy America answered “Murica speakin'.” Ivan stammered, looking desperately at the script written on a take out napkin. It didn't start like this at all. “H-hello, Alfred.” he greeted, daring to be bold. Jump straight for first name basis, be brave!

“Oh. Hey. Wazzup. It's been a few months.” the other greeted lazily, clearly not awake. “I forgot about the time zones. My apologies.” Ivan answered quickly, embarrassed. “It's fine. Tomorrow... today is Sunday anyway.” The pale Russian just had to get this over with, before he lost his nerve again.

“So, I found a new place. I wanted to know if you would like to visit. For tea, and other things. We could make a date of it, perhaps.” Ivan asked, hoping he didn't sound as forced as he felt. The much needed sentient companionship would be nice. Cats could only do so much, even if they were superior to dogs.

“Sure. I just need to tell the boss man, and –” Alfred's more alert voice was cut off. “This is strictly a personal visit.” Ivan insisted coldly, horrified at the thought of his boss finding out. America saw through the words and cool tone as if they were glass. He always did, much to Ivan's annoyance.

The was an odd sound, then an excited noise. “Oh. My. God. This is a booty call! This is so crazy!” Alfred exclaimed, sounding greatly entertained. “This is not a booty call as you say. It's a social gathering.” Ivan denied hotly. “Gathering of the sheets, ruskie. I'm game. You have like toys and stuff?” Alfred continued casually, totally unworried.

“What do you think?” Ivan retorted, irritated. “Was just checking! Jeez!” Alfred huffed. It was easy to imagine him sulking much like a young child right now. “Safe word. Think of a safe word.” Ivan mentioned, feeling foolish. The younger nation would probably never agree to anything so crazy it needed safe words.

“Cool. See you in ten-ish hours? I'm gonna need a ride to the new place though.” the fool agreed easily. After Ivan hummed in agreement, Alfred ended the call. It was just a hair under a minute in length. Interesting. The NSA and FAPSI must be trying to listen to their private calls again. Who even knew why anymore. They were all vapid professional exchanges or arguments over food.

It took several minutes for the results of the call to soak in. Ivan was going have visitors! Living breathing sentient visitors that could talk and everything! He scuttled around the condo, jittery with nervous excitement. He hadn't even thought of what to serve for meals, expecting total rejection.

The shaggy ash blond headed out to the local market, knowing it was the weekend. This part of town was so pretty, with old architecture and wilting flower boxes. Soon the snow would arrive, and the flowers would be replaced with charming cut outs to entrance the tourists.

Ivan smelled it before he even heard it. The fish section of the local market. He shivered as the paradise came into view. Human mode was so difficult to maintain in this place, pushing his senses to the limit. The reek of fish, repugnant to others, was a perfume that enraptured Ivan. He damn near quivered as he entered the series of sheltered stalls. They all had extended roofs that created convenient dry passages for customers despite the pouring autumn rain.

Ivan preferred the cold rain, but would do with the new environment. The familiar shop keeper saw Ivan, easily his most loyal customer. “Hello Ivan.” the man greeted simply. “Vasili.” the nation greeted distantly, transfixed by the shining bodies of fish.

He knew he looked insane or high, eyes dilated as they were. Ivan just didn't care. The recently caught fish shone like silver, plump and fresh. He wanted to enslave the man that owned this stall, to bring him more fish. He would kill anyone that stopped him, and take their fish. His fish. All of the fish.

A voice snapped him out of his obsessive internal thought loop. “The usual, then?” the older fisherman asked dryly, used to seeing the towering nation hovering over the fish display like an animal. “Double. I am having guests.” Ivan whispered, returning a loving gaze to the fish displayed.

“Here. 500 roubles.” Vasili replied evenly, loaded plastic bag ready. “450. no more.” Ivan haggled, serious for a moment as he looked at the man with predatory hunger. All that mattered was the fish. When Ivan didn't blink for a long time, the guy swallowed and nodded in agreement, too unnerved to speak. Victorious, Ivan handed over some crumpled paper bills and small change from his deep coat pockets.

As the pale ash blonde marched away victorious, He could hear the murmuring behind him. His sharp nation born hearing caught every syllable. “What the hell was his problem?” a younger voice whispered. “Don't talk badly about the customers boy.” the older fisherman scolded. “He's scary.” the other continued. “He scares the shit out of me too, but he buys a lot of salmon.” the other concluded wisely, voice casual.

Not offended at all, Ivan continued with his small shopping trip. After impulsively buying ridiculous sunglasses, several vegetables were acquired. Unlike Ivan, Alfred was probably going to want boring land food. With the exception of a thousand different potato dishes, Ivan mostly ate a lot of fish. He forced himself to eat vegetables, but just enough to get buy.

Home as quickly as he could manage, Ivan shoved all but one salmon in the fridge. The scent made his mouth water as he hurriedly locked every door and window. After petting the cats, He changed out of his clean clothes. Finally alone with his prey, Ivan grinned evilly.

Freed from it's plastic bag, the recently dead salmon lay still on a crisp white plate. It was a wonderful weight and length. The odour of it was magnificent. It was musky and strong, the only remainder of it's life in fresh water. It's steely black scales glittered as they faded to pale sunless white beneath. Lifeless eyes looked at the ceiling, uncaring. Perfection in meal form

In a lightning flash of movement, Ivan released all control. All but two larger tentacles securely wrapped around the fish. Powerful suckers peeled the skin off in long strips, while the spine and fins were ripped out with brutal precision. The insides were gutted where the fisherman had missed bits of intestinal detritus. The head was torn clean off.

Various guts were lazily dumped in the sink, all to be reduced to soup stock later. Now was the real pleasure. The ritual began with a long lick along the pink corded salmon muscles. They were mostly intact despite the rough handling. The prime cut of meat was soft and sweet in death. Sinking sharp teeth into the delicious treat, Ivan moaned.

He could feel the life the creature once possessed with a single bite. Imagining the creature as it lived, swimming freely in or near the Volga river. It tasted pretty clean, so it was probably from a lesser lake. With increasing frenzy, Ivan took one bite after another. The urge to chase, hunt, and devour something more lively took over. Why did he live so far in town again?

Ivan's phone rang, making him flinch and hiss. Realizing how silly he was being, the chimera being calmed himself and crawled over to his discarded pants. Still a gory mess from destroying an entire salmon in under a minute, The phone would definitely have to be cleaned.

“Speaking.” Ivan greeted flatly. It was just his handler being nosy, answering “Hello Ivan. We've been reviewing your expenses.” The Russian nation snorted derisively in response. “You can't charge fish to your government line of credit.” the annoying human nagged. “I can and will. Fish is very important to me.” Ivan argued, not to be denied one of his few joys. “We gave you a budget for food.” the other one continued to bitch. “It is not enough. I cannot subsist on cabbage soup and roadkill.” Ivan growled, hanging up.

The phone rang again, but Ivan ignored it. The call went to messages. It started to ring again, relentless. Sighing Ivan, answered it. He didn't really want to have his credit card taken away again. “Yes?” the violet eyed Russian answered rudely. “You better listen, because...” the human was immediately tuned out, key words skimmed from a sea of meaningless noise. Ivan had no idea what the guy was talking about. The taste of salmon was still lingering, and it was lovely.

Ivan woke up on the floor of his kitchen, cushioned by thick curls of his own tentacles. Apparently he fell asleep while being berated by his superior. Sating his need for prey generally made him tired. He was spotlessly clean of fish guts, as was his phone. Cat's were one of life's little miracles. All three fluffy kitties were napping in his coiled limbs, resting up after their private feast.

Glancing at his phone, there was several texts from work. He deleted any from his handler without reading them. It was quite late in the evening, something that seemed important... America was visiting! Hastened by sheer panic, Ivan started using the two hours left as efficiently as possible.


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred didn't look so great as he strolled out of the airport. There was dark rings under his eyes, and his clothes were a little crinkled. He either had poor sleep on the plane, or no sleep at all. There was no way Ivan was getting laid tonight.

That was hardly a set back. There was time on their side. Belarus took nearly twenty years to get that stupid fantasy of marriage out of her thick skull, and Ivan could be just as stubbornly patient. He would have proper sexual release, even if it took cunning and slow approaches.

The drive home was slow and quiet. Currently trickling through dense traffic, it would probably be a half hour before they arrived at the condo. “Thanks for inviting me. It's been a pretty rough three months.” Alfred eventually spoke, sounding like an overworked father. “Troubles?” Ivan asked simply, pleased to have conversation. It was rare he was talked to as an equal.

“NSA leaks mostly. Hackers are tearing secrecy clauses to shreds. They haven't damaged anything other wise, so the boss man thinks it's a dude with a robin hood complex. We have no idea who's doing it. At this point, I'm kinda done. Ya know?” Alfred answered with ease, rubbing his temples in the passenger seat.

“Hmm. Perhaps you could infiltrate your NSA. Or set the records on fire. I've done that a lot.” Ivan offered helpfully. “Huh, I forgot you went back to paper records. I'm all electric pretty much.” Alfred replied. Ivan shook his head, answering “No. Electric is convenient, but easy to access. Besides, the wiring in my cities is terrible.”

“Oh yeah, don't you still have farmers that use horses and stuff?” Alfred remembered, elbowing Ivan playfully. Ivan thought about that as he drove forward a few metres in grid lock. “I think... I do. Many of them. Whatever works.” the Russian mused, indulging in the abuse of 'whatever' like his American companion.

“So. Is this a date?” America asked bluntly. Ivan choked on his spit a little at the statement, not expecting it. “No. I just wanted a house warming party. For luck.” the ash blond responded, tone rather frosty. Who else would even come? “A house party for two people? Really?” the blue eyed blond scoffed. There was a tense moment, then a resigned “Even if it's just for sex, it's still nice to visit people.”

“It isn't just sex. I'm above that, I used to be royalty.” Ivan argued, feeling very offended. “Then it is a date! Sweet.” Alfred confirmed happily, switching moods in a second. After a second, Ivan closed his mouth and sulked darkly. “It's not a date.” he muttered, staring hard into traffic. Alfred didn't hear that, or chose to ignore it. Stupid self centred asshole.

Arriving at the condo, it was horrifyingly late. Ivan flicked on the light, stifling a yawn. Alfred whistled as he walked inside, taking in the bright creams, yellows, and wood tones Ivan had decorated with. “This place is fuckin' classy dude.” the younger male complimented. Long used to Alfred's odd speech mannerisms and drawl, Ivan accepted the praise at face value. America really was an alien culture of his own after all.

“I made you dinner, but it may be cold by now.” Ivan offered politely, taking Alfred's thin coat and hanging it up. “Oh man I'm hungry. I could go for a big ass bowl of mac n' cheese.” his guest groaned. Smirking, Ivan brought a plate out of the microwave. It was grilled salmon with peas, carrots, and various shredded vegetables in a sweet salad form. Squirming out of those evil pants, Ivan loosened his button up shirt and strangling work tie.

“Sit.” Ivan ordered, placing the dish at the table. Alfred obeyed, awestruck by the complexity of the food. Lighting some candles, Ivan offered a drink from the fridge. “Christ. I feel under dressed now.” the American lamented, looking down as his rumpled travel clothes. “Do not worry. I wanted this to be a casual visit.” Ivan assured, lighting a cigarette. He offered it to Alfred, along with a glass of rum.

“This is fancy. This fish, is... Mmm. Really good. And this... stuff is... Can I have some more? You should charge money for this.” Alfred praised while eating, making a bit of a mess. Soaking in the attention, Ivan smiled and lit his own cigarette. It was soothing to know he wasn't the only slob during dinner.

“When I was enslaved by the Golden Horde, I used to work in the kitchen. I just kept the skill up over the centuries. I cooked for Catherine the great as well. It always made her smile.” Ivan replied easily, nostalgic.

“Why aren't you eating?” Alfred asked, taking a drag of his smoke. “You wouldn't like it.” Ivan dismissed with a wave of a tentacle. “Since when have you cared about other opinions? Spill the beans, bud.” the tanned American pushed verbally. Ivan make a smoke ring and exhaled, then hummed. “Very well. I am hungry.” Ivan concluded. He always hungered for prey, fresher the better.

Simply putting a raw fish on a plate, Ivan retrieved lemon juice and vodka. Seating himself, he eyed the unfortunate pickerel. “Oh man, you went full sea world.” Alfred noted, making no sense at all. Ivan shrugged, peeling the skin and fins off with great accuracy. After the head was ripped off, the still boned fish was lay bare, was quite clean internally as it was. The tiny bones would be easy to dissolve internally or pass, not worth effort.

Drizzling lemon over everything, Ivan took an appreciative bite. Crunching through bone like nothing, the taste was very pleasurable and salty. “You must scare the shit out of the guy you buy fish from. You look high as a kite.” Alfred remarked, not horrified in the least. “Your tolerance for the strange is strong.” Ivan replied after chewing and swallowing, like a civilized person.

Alfred scratched the back of his neck idly, taking a look at Ivan then away. “After seeing people melt from radiation, I'm pretty much cool with anything. That and anime. Anime is totally fucked.” Not bothered by the sombre shift in topics, Ivan smiled. This talking with people during a meal was decidedly... nice.

“There is a movie I picked out. It is quite funny looking.” Ivan prompted. Alfred perked up at the mention of movies, a hard core film fanatic. “What is it?” he asked brows furrowed. “Murder House Five. It has everything a violent comedy requires.” Ivan informed happily. “If It's called Murder House Five, we should watch murder house one to four first. That way we don't miss plot development.” Alfred pointed out as he pushed up his black fire frame glasses.

“If we watch all of them, It would take at least two days. Meal breaks would be required.” Ivan reasoned, not really wanting to watch hours of steaming horror genre trash. The movie was just a ploy to cop a feel of Alfred's everything while he cried like a girl. The depths Ivan had sunk to were abysmal sometimes.

“I'm kinda on a sex-cation anyway, so... we could see how shitty the first movie is. If it keeps our attention... see where it goes.” the blue eyed blonde suggested with a tired smile. Ivan made a sound of agreement, even though he was entirely opposed.

After the meal, They settled on the couch. Alfred passed out ten minutes after the movie started. Bored of the cheap film already, Ivan scooted closer from the opposite end of the couch. He was fairly drunk the last time they hooked up, but he could recall genuine affection being exchanged. Alfred had wanted to do the deed, then and now.

Testing boundaries, Ivan let a few tentacles wander over. They coiled and gripped at the sleeping man's shirt innocently. Alfred didn't stir, oblivious in rest. His caramel skin was so warm. Encouraged, Ivan pressed gently against the slack American. How he always smelled distantly of apple pie was a mystery. Fully enveloping his guest now, Ivan could sense a relaxed heart beat. That honey blonde hair was so soft, like puppy fur. Ivan didn't even notice when he too fell asleep, the awful movie becoming increasingly faded background noise.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by god, I cannot seem to write a one-shot these days. Hope this wasn't too aimless.

That weekend they hardly entangled in lust at all. Between movies, going to the shooting range, and bickering harmlessly, they were too distracted. It was three days since the American's arrival, and his phone was going off constantly.

Of course, Alfred was loud and annoying. It still brought life to every moment. Instead of silence or faint meows, there was real conversation. It was something Ivan hadn't had for a long time, forgetting how much he needed this. Even the simple act of being in the same room, chatting while doing different tasks.

The second Alfred dashed out to get a taxi, Ivan knew he regretted letting the younger nation free. He hadn't received or given nearly enough pleasure yet. Breakfast and dinner would be so boring with no happy talks. They had barely began insulting random things from a shopping channel together.

So began a strange dance between the two. The other countries and nations would be pissed if it was discovered they were together. Instead, Ivan was always on diplomatic missions. America was always out on trade discussions. The fact that both unrelated schedules dropped the lovers in the same places and times was sheer luck.

It was just coincidence that they ended up at the same hotels every time, locked together at the lips in each other's rooms. Perhaps their vacations started synchronizing a bit. All the time together was great, and Alfred was truly talented with his body.

Ivan was waiting, freed tentacles wrinkling the neatly tucked hotel bed covers. He had just been out, exploring and experiencing the madness that was Las Vegas. The stingy Russian ended up having a fun time towards the end, betting on horse racing while doing shots. Now Alfred was out retrieving them food. It was a nice time for a break from human mode, knowing the voracious American would just order three of everything.

Right on time, Alfred barrelled through the hotel door. Laden with bags upon bags of Chinese food, he wore a shit eating grin. “I didn't know what to get, so I ordered a bunch of stuff.” he informed, kicking the door shut with his leg.

Staring out the window while smoking a cigarette, an insecure though snaked to the surface. “Fedya.” Ivan prompted, sharing the cigarette as Alfred sat close and gestured. “Yes?” he replied after out a puff of smoke. “We are dating, yes?” Ivan asked, looking at his companion thoughtfully.

America, surprisingly afraid of commitments, set the food down nervously. “I haven't been seeing any other sexy squid people.” he joked, smile waning. “Does it bother you that I am a monster?” Ivan continued, searching blue pools for doubt or regret. He had yet to find any over the past two years of their odd relationship.

“I'm more of a monster than you'll ever be.” Alfred answered honestly, sounding closer to his age for once. Ivan sighed, pulling his favourite living squeeze toy close. America still felt immensely guilty about dropping the atom bombs on Japan despite the many decades that had past. More recently, quiet USA drone campaigns were dragging down his mood. There was nothing he could do to stop the needless deaths, not having enough political or media pull.

“Lapushka... you must stop being so hard on yourself. You are not your people's mistakes.” Ivan soothed, giving all encompassing hugs only the way he could. “Yeah... Can we just cuddle for a bit?” Alfred agreed, looking tired. Ivan answered with a chaste kiss and a real smile, tightening his grip.

They stayed this way for a time, simply existing in each other's space. “Do you want to go bear hunting with me this weekend? We could get away from work.” Ivan offered, feeling tension within his chosen mate. “That would be cool.” Alfred replied simply, tucked against Ivan's shoulder. Heart fluttering, Ivan purred with contentment as their food was forgotten for a little longer. “I love you, sunflower.” Ivan whispered, as if the words might shatter the world when spoken loudly. “I love you too big guy.” Alfred responded carefully, his own words treated with care. 

Either of them even saying the words was a rarity, each vowel like easily smashed porcelain. The delicate bond fostered between them was just about the only thing not approached with brute force. These living emotions were fastidiously tended to, protected from the horrors of nationhood. They only had each other, and they were happy about it.

They were two monsters in love after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you see? Leave a comment or Kudos!


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